Under The Old Oak Tree
by IShipItAllAndThenSome
Summary: At lily and her tramps' request, I have written a fluffy, cute thing. We start with some little!Thor and little!Loki in Thor's garden, goofing around and reading Hans Christian Andersen. We fast forward twenty years or so, and see them being all cute and coupley after Thor: The Dark World. Takes place after all my other Marvel!verse fics. I hope this turned out well. Please review!


**My beloved sister, lily and her tramps, is having a big ol' angrysad about what happened in Chapter 28 of Tug. (Which. I'm sorry.)**

**SO! I have been ordered to write a cute, fluffy thing, and I really, really want to write a cute fluffy thing, so here's a little!Princes one shot. Also, the fairy tale here is Hans Christian Andersen's The Bond Of Friendship. It is, basically, a cultural heritage 'thumbs up' for Thorki to happen. Seriously. There's a precedent for 'It's okay, you can date, he's adopted.'**

* * *

Loki laid back against Thor's shoulder, smiling softly under the dappled light shining through a tall oak's leaves. "It's beautiful here, brother," he said quietly, tapping the little thunderer's sternum through his tunic, feeling the fine weave of the linen against the smooth pad of his finger. "I hadn't known your gardens were so beautiful."

"I like plants," Thor said, fighting back the squirmy, shameful feeling in the pit of his stomach. _It is alright for me to do this, isn't it?_ he thought to himself, tugging Loki closer, nestling his little brother into the hollow of his jaw. He did not know, for sure, whether that thought was of his gardening habit or of his and his brother's embrace. "I like... I like watching them grow, watching them become open and colourful and big when once they were but a hard, small seed or a cold green bud. I like knowing that I have made something beautiful."

Loki smiled, plucking a branch of mustard flowers from a nearby vine with a thought and bringing them close. He snapped off two of them and held one out to Thor. They both bit into the savory blossoms and hummed at the taste, Loki's smile stretching all the wider for the one on Thor's face. "You are far better at this than the Vanir in Father's employ. Perhaps, when we rule, you can do the gardening yourself, to your satisfaction."

Thor laughed, a soft chuckle, and Loki felt warm just listening to it.

"I mean it!" He rolled on top of Thor, attempting to pin him down, and grinned. "Say it: I am, indubitably, the finest botanist in all the nine Realms!"

"No!" Thor stuck out his tongue, grinning right back. "Others have learned from masters, and become masters themselves! Even brutish Midgard has some of the most beautiful gardens - "

"Say it, brother-mine, or I'll..." Loki trailed off, trying to think of something that would suitably coerce Thor into saying it. "Or I'll spit on you!"

"Disgusting!" Thor, with ease, flipped them both and pressed Loki into the verdant carpet of grass and wildflowers, pennygrass and Pink Cushion crushed under their weight and releasing their sweet scents into the air. "Now, little one, who may spit on whom?"

Loki squirmed to escape but found no means to do so; instead, his wriggling sent them sliding downhill, and they clung to each other and screamed with laughter all through their descent. They crashed, hip first, into the roots of another oak tree, small green acorns rattling down and raining on their heads. The two of them found that they could not stop laughing for ages, sides fit to split wide open.

When they finally calmed down, Thor flopped into Loki's lap at the base of the tree, looking up at his proud little face, at the sharpness of his chin and the budding angularity of his cheeks. Sometimes it surprised Thor, how beautiful Loki was.

He was not, of course, by Aesir standards. By the standards of their home, glittering and golden and gaudy, he was freakish and ugly, a Quasimodo, a stranger.

But to Thor?

The little Asa prince could not imagine anyone more beautiful.

"Read me a story," he entreated after a few moments, stroking the soft, pale plane of Loki's cheek. The chill of his skin was a welcome relief from the heat of the sun, which was alarmingly high that early autumn afternoon.

Loki smiled down at his brother and kissed his hair. "I found a book, from Midgard, in Mumma's library. Two of her handmaidens showed it to me." Seemingly from midair, Loki drew out a small leather-bound book, worn blue-grey cover embossed with the name Hans Christian Andersen, written in Allspeak. "Lofn and Sjöfn were most interested in my opinion of it; it was a little strange, I told them, but a lovely story. I think you'll like it."

Thor beamed, nodding for Loki to start reading.

The silver-tongued boy, of barely ten years, opened the slim tome and began to read: "'Our house was built of clay, but the doorposts consisted of squared marble pillars founded on the spot where the house was built."

As Loki read the story, Thor picked handfuls of buttercups and tickled his brother under the chin with them. Loki giggled, but kept reading, his voice slow and measured and rich, perfect for story-telling. Thor could have listened to it forever; he wanted to, more than anything, and stared at the yellow stain on Loki's chin as it moved to make space for the foreign words in his mouth, rubbing buttercups absently against his own chin as he listened.

"...'I was unable to speak, but he seized her hand and said: 'Our brother loves you, he is dear to you! His silence is the best proof of his love.'

"'Anastasia trembled, and burst into tears. Then I only saw her, only thought of her, flung my arms round her, and said: 'Yes, I love you!'

"'She pressed her lips to mine, and placed her arms around my neck; but the lamp had fallen on the floor: it was dark around us, as dark as in the heart of poor Aphtanides. Before daybreak he got up, kissed us all, and departed. He had given his money to my mother for us. Anastasia was my betrothed, and in a few days became my wife.' The end."

Thor beamed. "Read it again."

Loki took a fistful of cloudberries and gulped them down, cheeks and chin sticky with their sweet juice, and began to read again.

...

Thor sits back down, sunglasses hiding as much of his face as possible, and rests his head on Loki's shoulder, nuzzling the soft cotton of his sage green t-shirt. They are both older now; they wear the time since that happy day in Thor's old garden like scars from a battle, like it still pains them when the weather changes.

They sit together, under an oak tree in some little New York park, picnic blanket bunched up beneath their rears as a result of their constant scooting uphill, nestling into the trunk of a tree. Their chins are stained buttercup-yellow and their hands are tangled together as if they can never be parted. Thor pinches acorns to dust between his free hand's finger and thumb, handing the meat of them to the occasional passing squirrel; Loki, barefoot, watches Hela and Vali play in the grass with what, to outsiders, appears to be no more than a family pet - a husky, with brilliant green eyes - and a garden snake, and digs his long toes into the dry soil.

It is not their childhood home; the dirt beneath his feet is not loose and dark and wet, squishy and fertile and faintly sweet, and the sunlight is not from Asgard's two suns.

But here, Thor rests against Loki and kisses his smooth skin and listens to him read:

"'Our house was built of clay...'"

* * *

**I really, really tried to make this a happy oneshot. I really did. **

**So, yeah. **

**Canon time!**

**In Marvel Comics, Thor reads wedding and gardening magazines. So I made little!Thor have a garden because COME ON THAT IS THE CUTEST THING ASDFGHJKL**

**Ahem. 'Scuse me. So! This fic was my best attempt at a happy little oneshot. It takes place, in my Marvel fic!verse scheme of things, after literally everything. This is after Thor: The Dark World, though there are no spoilers, and after the New Years' fic. **

**Buttercups are indigenous to areas of Norse culture, and it's said that if you rub them on your chin and the yellow comes off, it's because you're in love. As little!Princes, Thor is in love with Loki and Loki is, at that time, in love with Angrboða. **

**Frigga's handmaidens are the same ones who angst over Thorki not being a thing yet in Tug. **

**I hope you all enjoyed this cute little thing, and I hope you go read some Hans Christian Andersen. A lot of his stuff is pretty Christ-y, but it's still good. **

**Please review, and let me know if this was cute enough. **


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